Uh…..anger management? Maybe?

Under normal circumstances, I´d say I´m depressed. Depression, however, is just a convenient cover-up in my case; convenient because what I actually feel is too trivial, shameful and private. It will probably repulse people. At least that´s what always seems to happen in real life.

I´m angry enough, though, to feel entitled to repulse anyone reading this. If I´m not going to get what I want, I can at least voice it. Maybe it will relieve some of the frustration I´m feeling. Because, yes, this is my problem: Utter frustration.

The frustration is actually physical. I feel awfully tense and angry, and I know exactly what I need: I need someone to knock me down onto the bed and beat me up.

It´s as simple as that. I don´t want it because I deserve it, or because I need to self-destruct. My body wants it, demands it, requires it. That´s just part of the screwed-up person I am. Any kind of sexual tension, if taken too far, at some point transforms into  ferocious, aggressive impulses. It´s nothing psychological for all I know. At least nothing I can perceive. It just is.

It´s not a place where I like to go, because usually there´s no way out of that. I can either take it out on others, which they and I normally don´t want, or I can let others take it out on me. Which is normally not pleasant either, not while it happens. The last time we did that I couldn´t stand the pain one bit, it made me angry, I felt it was unfair, and I started to cry. I thought the whole thing had been a giant mistake, but suddenly it was like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. I felt cheerful, relaxed and renewed.

Ever feeling that good again seems unimaginable right now. It´s like this tension, the frustration will never go away again. It´s not like I haven´t tried punching myself, but this won´t do. It doesn´t get my adrenaline up the way it goes when I brace myself for someone else´s attack. I hardly even feel the pain while I do it. I can´t break myself, but that´s essentially what I need. I don´t like it very much, it doesn´t feel good while it happens, I try to fight it even though I asked for it, but right now it is what I need in order to be able to focus again.

I wonder how much of my “depression” is down to stuff like that. Depression is often described as suppressed anger. I wonder if, maybe, much of my mental self-torture is an attempt at giving myself what I need. It is somewhat satisfying. Even what I´m doing here, that is, writing it all down for the public to read, is somehow provocative. It could end with conflict, and maybe, though on some level I absolutely dread conflict and get severe bouts of anxiety about it  – maybe I want just that. Maybe I want to be told I´m sick and need therapy or worse, just so I can spit at anyone who tells me so. I think my anxiety about conflicts largely stems from a pre-emptive guilty conscience. I have a vague idea what I´m capable of, and most of the time I´d prefer to not find out how cruel and unfeeling I can really be. Sometimes I think my anxiety is just an attempt at making myself believe I´m a little more humane than I am. An attempt at making myself feel weaker so I don´t have to feel evil. I recently looked more closely at when anxiety and worry suddenly kick in, and I realized that it reliably happened whenever I felt happy or triumphant or self-confident, so there´s actually something to this theory. At other times, though, I think that I´m overestimating the meaning of my aggressiveness.  Maybe I´m pointlessly phobic of my own aggression, maybe I´m the only one who´s even remotely frightened of it. Maybe I´m not more aggressive than others.

There´s this Jungian idea of the shadow everyone has. I thought I was well acquainted with mine, given that I keep on digging up nasty secrets and talk about how I feel inadequate, or about how I´m not just empathic but also sadistic (empathy and sadism are a very typical set of twins, so it would seem like I know my dark side). This, however, is all bright and shiny as daylight. In a twisted way it makes me look good to talk about those things, as it seems to suggest that I´m modest and self-aware and not getting ahead of myself. It´s a way to look humane. Even a way to connect with others. A way to look courageous.  And regarding the sadism part – I only admit to the non-aggressive, playful part of it. A part that is real, strong, good and very much appreciated by some. There sometimes comes a point where it turns into blind aggression, though, and this is exactly what I´ve described here. I don´t act on it, but sometimes I want to. Sometimes I don´t want to ask permission, sometimes I don´t want to ask “are you okay shall I stop?” when I hear real noises of pain, sometimes I want to push people to the point of tears and yell at them for crying. Sometimes I want to use to opportunity to take out real-life trouble on them.  And I think that some of my anxiety is, indeed, down to me being terrified that I am like that. Just how unfeeling I can be. How far I can separate myself from all feelings of connection, from my own and others´ humanity. Or could, if I didn´t stop myself with the help of anxiety attacks. Sometimes I think I´m something as unlikely as a neurotic psychopath.

Then, there´s other things that potentially separate me from others. Triumph. Success or even ambition. Pride in what I do. Happiness that does not relate to moments of intimacy. Instead of feeling such things, I often start to feel anxious. Sometimes I decide to stop denying I´m happy, proud or triumphant. It always makes me feel a tad reckless and evil, like I´m dancing on someone´s grave. Like I´m being utterly arrogant. And then I tell myself: Well, fine, so I´m arrogant! I don´t care! Which makes me feel like an indifferent, stereotypical narcissist. Lately, I want to come to the point of not caring about that, either. I just should be aware that I will get no one´s permission for that. Not diminishing oneself anymore is always everyone´s great goal in theory, but for some reason it is rarely welcomed in practice.

So – replacing anxiety with scary feelings of pride and accomplishment and even megalomania and arrogance, if they are what is inside of me is one thing. But how about the aggression?

I guess it´s all about allowing myself to feel. I am allowed to have absolutely every feeling. I just shouldn´t act on some of them, and I see no indication that I will. It seems to be the only way to get rid of my anxiety, though. By replacing it with whatever feeling it covers up.

Thank fuck I´m feeling I´ve just admitted to being a homicidal maniac who should be taken out. At least now I know what I really think about myself. And at least the bloody tension is gone!




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